


The Thing About Change

by wyse_ink



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Childhood Friends, Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Future, Growing Up, Nostalgia, Secret Crush, Short One Shot, freewrite - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4803935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyse_ink/pseuds/wyse_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a victory at their second high school Winter Cup, Momoi and Aomine ponder the changes in store for the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing About Change

**Author's Note:**

> Time: 30 minutes  
> Fun, fluffy free-writing practice before bed. Also posted on http://seirin-no-sedai.tumblr.com/post/129133654212/the-thing-about-change-wyseink-kuroko-no

     The final buzzer in the last game of the season is a bittersweet moment for Momoi. She covers her mouth with her hands, her eyes growing misty as she watches her team shake hands and bow to their opponents. Then, as if witnessing something out of a dream, she watches as they receive the Winter Cup. It’s passed from Wakamatsu to Aomine, and he raises the trophy into the air, grinning from ear to ear. It’s the most genuine smile she’s seen from him in a long time. A warm feeling floods through her, and she realizes how much she’s missed that smile. She runs onto the court as Aomine’s teammates lift him onto their shoulders, cheering for their ace and for their victory. Several of Touou’s players give her a celebratory pat on the back, shouting appreciative and excited remarks over the noise of the court, but she barely hears them. Her eyes lock briefly with Aomine’s, and he says something she can’t hear. She smiles, not caring what was said, and lets the tears flow.

     The team deserved this victory, she thinks, catching a glimpse of Seirin’s forced smiles. Both did, she thinks, as her gaze falls on Kuroko and Kagami. Seirin had won the summer tournament this year, but a loss was a loss to serious athletes like them. It had been an incredible game in the end, Touou barely scraping by with a two point lead. Momoi knew that Seirin would come back even stronger next time. Kagami and Aomine were already evenly matched, and Kuroko was, well…

     She smiles as she locks eyes with him on the other side of the court. He raises his fist in the air, a gesture she’s only see him do with the teammates and rivals he greatly respected. Feeling a lump forming in her throat, she raises hers in return, suppressing a giggle for how silly they must look. It’s a promise, she thinks as she watched Seirin exit the court. A promise that next time will be an even greater battle, and a promise that their teams would meet again on the court.

     Momoi turns back to her team as they too begin to clear the court.

***

     Dinner with the team afterward and the bus ride back to the school were a blur to her. Now, as he walks her home, the air outside is cold, and her breath forms small, formless clouds. She pulls her knit cap further over her ears and shivers. Beside her, taking long, even strides to her every two, Aomine carries himself with a sense of pride. It’s not a self-centered pride though, she notes, watching him stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket. It’s the good kind. Though his smile’s faded, his eyes are still lit with energy.

     He doesn’t seem tired at all. She wonders if it’s still from adrenaline and looks up at the sky. It’s late, she realizes, watching the stars above them. They’re hard to see because of the city’s lights, but even still, they look beautiful. Her thoughts are cut short as she stumbles, and a firm hand immediately catches her arm and steadies her.

     “Oi, Satsuki, be careful,” he says gruffly, though not unkindly. She feels a blush rising to her cheeks from embarrassment, and pulls her arm away.

     “I’m fine, Dai-chan,” she says. She stuffs her hands in her coat pockets, wondering why her voice sounded so cross. She softens her expression, and they start walking again. “Only one more year,” she says distantly. She sees the corner of his mouth twitch in her peripheral vision, but he says nothing. It’s been something they’ve avoided discussing, but now the future seems ominous as it creeps closer toward them. At least, it feels that way to her. Momoi knows he feels the same. She can see it in the way he plays and the effort he puts into practice. As the clock ticks, he practices harder. He plays in games with more conviction. _He’s never been one to talk about things_ , she thinks, _but he reveals more than he knows_.

     “Have you decided yet?” he asks her, and she looks up at him in surprise. His expression is unreadable. “About where you’ll go, I mean.”

     “No,” she admits. “I’ve looked into a few schools in Tokyo, but that’s it.” She sees his posture stiffen slightly at her response, but relax again in an instant. She sighs. Despite how long they’ve known each other, she still finds him hard to read at times. On the court, he was an open book, channeling his emotions into an athleticism few could even hope to achieve.

     But the other times? It was like extracting data from a rock. As time went on, she’d become increasingly frustrated by her lack of knowing, though she doesn’t know why.

     They pass the park they used to play at as kids. The court is illuminated by street lamps, one of which flickers unstably. She senses Aomine stopping, and she turns to find him staring at one of the hoops. He rests one hand on the chain link barrier that divides them, and his fingers lace through the spaces. She joins him silently. It was on this court that he’d first taken a liking to basketball, and it was here that they’d both realized that he had a natural talent for it.

     “Satsuki, what do you think of change?” His question is innocent and curious, but she’s aware of the weight. She thinks carefully for a moment.

     “Well, it’s natural,” she replies. “I’ve always thought of it like an adventure.” He glances at her curiously, and she feels heat rising to her cheeks. She quickly crosses her arms. “Why would you ask such a thing?” His brow furrows slightly.

     “I was curious, that’s all,” he says bluntly. He falls silent and turns back to the court. She follows his gaze to the cracked concrete that will probably never be repaired. She’d played on this court too when she’d been young. Though she hadn’t played basketball, she’d found other things to do, like drawing on the concrete with chalk or balancing along the faded, painted lines like a balance beam. It’d been on this court that she’d developed her fear of frogs - thanks to Aomine - who’d found one somewhere in the park and decided to put it on her head.

     She chuckles at the thought.

     “I think it’s good,” she says finally. “At least, I think it can be. If nothing else, you’ll have your memories until you do find something just as good.” He doesn’t respond. Instead, he looks down at her, as if waiting for her to say more. When she doesn’t, he sighs.

     “You’re impossible,” he mutters under his breath, shoving his hands back into his pockets. He turns and starts to walk away. She hurries to catch up to him, their footsteps fading into the night.


End file.
